When I try to pull back, he yanks me forward, the belt getting tighter.
“Good girls stay alive,” he whispers, his hand sliding down my front until it’s buried in my shorts. My moan betrays me as his fingers start to circle my clit. “Bad girls get bullets.” He licksmy cheek. “So, what are you tonight, Poppy? A good girl or a bad girl?”
He lowers the gun just a tad, awaiting my answer.
“I guess I’m a little bit of both,” I answer truthfully.
The second my breasts meet Arturo’s mattress, I know I’m fucked. “Good… I can’t wait to figure out just how bad you can truly be.”
(Two Weeks Later)
Arturo glares at me from across the room, watching me dress with angry eyes. For the last few weeks, he’s barely said a word to me.
“What?” I growl, hating how he’s scrutinizing my every move.
His gaze flicks to the fresh hole in my arm, and I quickly cover it, trying my best to pretend like everything is okay.
“You’re still using?”
I nod, though he doesn’t deserve it. “And so what if I am?” I need the goddamn drugs to get me through this nightmare. Ever since the night of the fire, I’ve been a mess, doing my best to keep my head above water when it feels like my demons are slowly drowning me.
His brow scrunches in frustration. “Then you’re of no use to me anymore.”
“How can you be attracted to this?” I ask him, staring at my reflection that’s nothing but skin and bones. “You made me this way. You wanted me this skinny.”
He moves swiftly across the room, only stopping when I can feel his breath battling my cheeks for dominance. “Do you think I want a fucking drug addict on my arm?” he growls. “A fucking whore.”
“You gave him the okay!” I argue, hating how he keeps turning that night with Warden against me. “You let him in the room!”
“As a goddamn test! And you fucking failed!” His hand shoots out, curling around my throat with malicious conviction. “I’ve killed people for less, bitch.”
“Then kill me!” I challenge, calling him on his bluff. “Get it over with if that’s what you want.”
“What I want is a woman who obeys me.”
“And when have I not? I do everything you ask, Arturo. More if you need me to. I cook, I clean, I watch as you fuck your way through the women of his club. And not once have I complained, knowing I can’t because you haven’t even tried to claim me as yours. At the end of the day, I’m still nothing more than a club whore, not until you brand me your Ol’ Lady.”
He knows I’m right, but his grip still strengthens. My ability to breathe lessening. “Is that what you want? To be my Ol’ Lady?”
No. What I want is to get out of this place and be free of your torment.But I don’t say it out loud. I’m nothing more than a prisoner to them, hiding out in Fallon with the rest of the club that fled here after Warden commanded it. He wants Moseley to hang himself, and he can’t do that if the club is at his beck and call.
“I don’t know what I want anymore. I just want to die.”
He smirks. “You’d already be dead if this was my fucking call.”
“Isn’t it?” I question. “Aren’t you head of the club?”
He shrugs, his hand dropping to his side. “I’m not the head of this club until Warden’s either buried six feet deep or resurfaces and strips me of the title. “And, as much as I hate to admit it, Warden was right. We’re going to fucking need you to break them. And unfortunately, you haven’t done that yet.”
“How? What more do you want me to do?”
He thoughtfully strokes his chin, then grins. “I want you to bring me his bitch and child.”
“What?”
“His girl. The one you said yourself he’d do anything for. He has a kid now too, right? Bring me them. If you do, I’ll claim you as my Ol’ Lady.”
“You want me to kidnap my ex best friend and her child?”
